"I'll tell you what, I have lunch open, why don't you join me, then we can talk?"
"OK, lunch when?" I asked.
"Uh, in about half an hour," Mr Verné replied.
I almost choked on my own spit.
"Are you OK?" he asked, sounding very concerned.
When I'd finished coughing I nodded then, realising I was speaking to him on the phone, replied, "Yes, sorry!"
"Is that OK with you?"
I scanned my diary that was laid open before me, fully knowing I was clear for lunchtime.
"Uh... yes."
"Excellent! Let me just give you the details..."
Mr Harbour's eyes widened as I burst into his office.
"You didn't knock," he said.
"I'm meeting Mr Verné in half an hour, sorry for not taking the time to knock on your door!"
"You seem anxious," he noted in that same annoyingly calm voice, while looking back down at whatever he'd been busy with.
"That tends to happen when you find out you're meeting with the company's main advertiser in twenty minutes, you're not anywhere near prepared for it, and the restaurant is forty minutes away!"
"He is only one of our main advertisers, and I'm confused, is the meeting in thirty or twenty minutes now?" he asked in an amused tone that annoyed me more than the earlier calm one.
I scowled at him. "You have a disturbing sense of humour."
He almost seemed to smile then slowly searched my face. "How about this - I'll accompany you so you won't have to prepare, and Thomas can drive us; we'll make it there in fifteen minutes."
I faltered. "Don't you have work to do?"
He looked down at his desk and shrugged. "I can stay later."
I bit my lip and frowned. "Are you sure?"
He picked up his phone and started dialing. "Get your stuff while I call Verné to let him know I'll be along as well, and I'll call Thomas to bring the car around."
"Um... OK," I mumbled guiltily mostly to myself, since he was already on the phone. I stood there fidgeting for a few moments until Mr Harbour frowned at me and I realised I was supposed to go get my things. I smiled apologetically and rushed out.
I squinted into the sunlight as I stepped out of Harbour International. I'd still been madly gathering files when Mr Harbour had breezed by and said he'd meet me at the car, which I'd been happy about then - it would've been awkward to have him watch me while I scrambled wildly for whatever I might need - but now I realised I had no idea what the car actually looked like. I was squinting into the parking lot for a car that resembled what I imagined Mr Harbour might drive - surely he'd have a spot near the door - when the window of a black limo to my right slowly opened, revealing Mr Harbour. I jumped back in fright and almost dropped the ten folders I was holding.
"I think you should get in if you don't want to be late - Thomas has skills but he is not a miracle-worker." He still wore that amused expression but instead of being annoying, it was now calming... and handsome. I grinned, went around the huge black limo and got inside. I'd been in quite a few limos but this one was very different. Normally it was all black leather, mini bars and sun roofs, but this one was more like an extension of Mr Harbour's office. The resemblance was actually creepy. The seats were a cream suede that seemed to caress your legs as soon as you sat down. There was a mini replica of the wooden chest in his office but I couldn't tell from looking what it contained. On the floor was another plush carpet but this one was beige. The whole effect was more like walking into an office than getting into a car. The moment I was fully inside and my door was closed, Thomas pulled away like a bat out of hell.
